Sundown, and Harry was alone in Phillip's study, pacing the room, waiting for his call. It was restlessness again, creeping through him in that old familiar way. "Things could get too involved," he thought.
"Yeah, that girl, there was more to her than just being a woman." She was weird, indefinable. It made him feel lost, a novel sensation for Harry. It made him restless, and he didn't want to upset anything between himself and Phillip. "Not now," Harry knew. "I can't let anything interfere now."
It was almost dark. Harry sank heavily into a large armchair. The always-present cigarette in the corner of his mouth, dangling, looking not smoked at all, just there and getting shorter as though by magic.
The mother-of-pearl chess set on the table before him looked inviting in the dim light. He thoughtfully began to move a few pieces about when the door to the study burst open. Harry sprung up, cat-like.
"You could get killed that way, walking into a room unannounced!"
Carol stood by the door, saying nothing, her eyes catching his angry stare through the twilight. Finally she spoke dryly, ignoring his outburst. "You're going to burn your lips if you don't give up that butt.
You need a better light."
She walked past him in the dark, toward the indirect light. He felt her brush by him; he could smell faintly the more spicy than sweet odor of her perfume. "Yes," he thought, "Carol is definitely in the room."
She turned on the light near the chess set. It was a hot evening, and Carol was dressed for the weather, wearing a short dress made of filmy material, like a little girl's jumper or perhaps more like a nightgown.
Harry remained standing in the same position as when she entered, not talking, not moving, the cigarette butt burning into his lip. He stood staring through her. She spoke softly, "You've been working overtime."
Harry walked back to his chair, and mashed his cigarette in one of the large alabaster ashtrays. He lit another immediately and returned to his chess game. Carol watched the side of his sculptured face, its muscles moving in and out as he concentrated on the board. In the back of her mind she wondered if that face would ever look at her with the same intensity and her heart turned over in between her breasts.
She put her portfolio and purse on another chair and walked back to Harry.
"Who's winning?" she asked toyingly.
Harry looked up at her as though she were a statue that had come to life. "Who do you think?" he replied teasingly. Carol couldn't return his piercing stare. She sensed something else emanating from him.
She was unable to make the usual banter. Rather than melt away under his gaze, she turned her back briefly to him and stood still for a split second. In that moment Harry followed the curve of her ass from the tiny waist to the voluptuous full-blown thighs, then to the bottom of her heart-shaped ass.
His cock bolted upright, uncontrollably, as though it were crying for attention. Carol walked over to the small oak bar and mixed herself a drink. "I played chess often with Phillip," she said. Harry resented the sudden mention of Phillip's name. "Where is he by the way," she added.
"Why? Anything important?"
"Not, not really. I brought over the latest issue of Femme to show him. There are reproductions of two paintings Phillip once owned.
Want to see them?"
Carol picked up the copy of Femme and made another drink. She slowly walked back to Harry's chair and sat on the arm. "Want a drink?
I forgot to ask."
"No thanks," Harry answered nervously, hoping she wouldn't sense his sudden uneasiness. Her closeness became near agony for him. He hated himself for responding to her. He kept his eyes glued to the chess board, but her musky smell drove him wild. He thought his balls were blowing up and he would be carried up into the air by them, like those huge old-fashioned balloons.
"Here they are." Carol rested the magazine in her lap as he tilted his head to the side. Her full-pointed nipple softly rubbed his temple.
The paintings were two Rousseaus. "They're strange." He said this in a manner that revealed a certain insight and awe. Then more quickly he said, "Like you, they're strange." Carol hardly breathed; if she were to breathe it would be a wall between them and they would not be able to sense each other's presence so completely.
As Harry lifted his head from the magazine he noticed that Carol was wearing a small velour hat.
"It's warm for a hat, baby." He raised his hand almost as a reflex and ran his finger abstractedly over the crown. Carol felt that touch all the way down, deep into her pussy.
"Do you like it?" she asked dreamily.
"Yeah, it's like the inside of a jewel box." He took the hat off her head, gently placed it beside the chess set, then pushed the table away.
Carol was laughing at what he had said, and he laughed too. They were laughing deliciously together, when Carol stopped abruptly, her eyes filmy as the material of her dress. She looked deep and long at him and, slipping down the arm of the chair, fell on him, saying, "Harry, Harry," over and over again.
She sank down to her knees, opened his pants aggressively and began to passionately suck his cock. It was purple with sensuousness, the mushrooming tip, pink and spongy compared to the steel rod that supported it. She'd never tasted anything so wonderful. His cock was sweet, and she allowed him to plunge his sticky rod of sweetness to the very back of her mouth. Carol tasted the bits of salty sperm that lashed out into her throat. Her mouth pulled in and out on his blazing prick, its veins swollen with fire.
Every once in a while she ran the tip of her tongue around the edges of the vibrating veins of his cock. She moved her viper's tongue down to the delicate hairy valley between his balls, and licked her way up, ever so tenderly, ever so pleasingly, until her lips found the flower of his stem. Then she moved her mouth and lips in such a manner that he thought she was eating him up alive and nothing would be left. Thank Christ he had gotten rid of this flaming torch he was carrying.
Harry glanced down at her smooth blonde head moving fervently over his organ. He began to move his hips with frantic excitement.
Her hands tugged him gently behind his knees, and she pulled him to the floor. She didn't stop sucking his cock, so he was unable to get to her breasts or cunt. She was a woman possessed. To interrupt her would be an insult. The intensity of her mania controlled him and he was too hot to think of anything but what she was thinking of.
She lay flat on her stomach between his beautifully muscled dancer-like legs. Her hands were under his tight-skinned buttocks, pushing the round snake-head deeper … deeper. He thought the soft membrous lining inside her mouth felt the way a Vestal virgin's cunt must feel.
Then something beyond his control pulled all the seeds from his soul out of him. Her teeth closed almost too tightly on his cock as he came and came and came. He couldn't stop gasping, nor could he keep his hips from moving uncontrollably down against her terrible feverish lips.
After what seemed another time span in some other world, he lay silent. All that was left were her fingers plunged deep inside his asshole, as though this would hold him together, keep him from falling apart. He looked down his body to her head turned to the side and resting gently against his sated organ. She barely breathed. The only movement was his sperm running endlessly from the side of her mouth, like blood. "So this is Carol," he thought.
The telephone rang. It sounded like a thousand bells were jangling.
They were lying in the same position on the floor, both half asleep.
Harry was the first to react to the sharp sound. He moved from underneath Carol's head and sprinted to the phone.
"Hello, yeah, yeah, okay. Half an hour, okay."
Carol went into the luxuriously tiled bathroom while he was on the phone. When she came out, she was amazed to find Harry fully dressed. He walked quickly to an adjoining room and started throwing things into an overnight case. She looked on silently, thinking, "He acts as though we've never met."
"Going some place?" She was cool, but she really wanted to run to his arms and say, Remember me? Remember, I was the girl that five minutes ago was so hot for you I was eating you up alive, remember?
But she remained contained.
"It seems that way," Harry answered her indifferently. "I just got a call."
In a minute he was packed and ready to go. He went for his coat in the study. Carol was in the doorway as he exited. "See you in the Anonymous The Pleasure Thieves Page 60
papers," she called after him bitterly. The door made a loud bang as he left.